What is love?

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

A Foreword You'll Regret Not Reading

? Author: Vincent-xf

I am not the author of this story.

Last summer, I bought a house somewhere on the West Coast. The previous owner had long since emigrated, and the entire

handover was handled by the real estate company. Shortly after moving in, while cleaning the basement, I found a cardboard box

with the words "Old books and newspapers, burn" scrawled in Chinese on it. The previous owner had probably intended to dispose of

it during the move but forgot in their haste. Reluctant to use my spotless fireplace for this, I sorted the contents of

the box into paper bags and had them taken away by a junkyard truck. The manuscript for this story was tucked

inside an old magazine.

The writer clearly lacked formal writing training, but some parts are worth reading, and

the author seems to have paid great attention to the credibility of the details. To be honest, after reading the manuscript, I went to the city archives

to look up information about the previous owner of the house. I found that the person in the story didn't match up at all. Therefore, I conclude that this

story is fictional and will not violate anyone's privacy if posted online.

The original manuscript had no title; the headings and subheadings readers see are added by me for easier online posting. This

story is about the love between a mother and son. If you decide to read on, you are responsible for the consequences.

What is Love (Part 1) - Freud

Author: vincent-xf

When I was fifteen, I entered a university, ranking third in the city's science and engineering exams. Three years later,

I graduated and, through a recommendation from an American professor, went to a prestigious university on the East Coast of the United States to pursue a doctoral degree. Shortly after arriving in America,

I met an American girl named Kelly at a friend's party. Kelly was nine years older than me and was a graduate student in the psychology department of a nearby university . Kelly had a very strong sex drive and wanted to have sex every day. This was naturally a welcome surprise

for me, who was experiencing forbidden fruit for the first time . Kelly was very pragmatic about our relationship: because of the age difference, we would break up sooner or later, and she only hoped that we were mutually attracted now and could remain trustworthy friends in the future. She took me to two swinging parties , and each time she tried her best to set me up with girls around my age. She said I should try some young sex because I would eventually marry someone my own age. The first time, we met a young couple, the man was twenty-six and the woman was twenty-one. We went to three parties in total. The woman's name was Penny, she was very beautiful and very passionate in bed. I can't say I didn't enjoy being with her. But every time it was over, I never felt the same psychological satisfaction as after being with Kelly. Kelly laughed and said I was probably in love with her, so she wanted me to date more young girls. The second time, Kelly kept trying to find me a "younger" man, but seeing my indifferent attitude, she gave up. Just as we were about to leave, Kelly pulled me aside and said there was a very attractive man. She said the couple was already forty years old, and I definitely wouldn't be interested, but the wife had agreed to let her husband be "intimate" with Kelly, and she wondered if I minded. I looked in the direction Kelly was pointing and saw a pleasant-looking middle-aged couple whose eyes kept glancing at us. My heart skipped a beat, and I told Kelly I didn't mind , but I also wanted to be intimate with the wife. Kelly paused for a moment, smiled thoughtfully, and pulled me over to the couple, saying we were willing to switch partners with them. The wife, Eva , also paused for a few seconds, just like Kelly, then glanced at me shyly and nodded to her husband. The four of us rented two rooms at a nearby hotel (it was the couple's suggestion, and they paid for it ). Once we were alone in the room, I found myself incredibly nervous, my body trembling slightly. Eva seemed a little uncomfortable , but thankfully she knew how to break the ice. She said it was their first time, and her husband had suggested it. She added that if I felt she was too old and not interested, she would understand; we didn't have to force it, we could just chat like friends for a while. I mustered my courage and said I found her very alluring and hoped we could be more than just friends. Eva chuckled and said she liked me too. I went to her side, kissing her as I undressed her. Eva kept her eyes closed and didn't move, letting me remove her long skirt, bra, and panties one by one. In the blink of an eye, she was completely naked . Her skin wasn't as smooth as a young woman's, and compared to Kelly and Penny, she had a thicker waist and wider hips, but she possessed the unique charm and voluptuousness of a middle-aged woman. I felt a surge of heat and excitement coursing through my body, so I abandoned all tenderness, wrapped one arm around her waist, and reached between her legs to caress her vulva, while simultaneously taking one of her nipples into my mouth . She moaned softly, whispering, "Don't rush, my body is all yours." I helped her lie down on the bed, parted her legs, and my gaze slid from her breasts to her thick pubic hair and open vulva. Eva's skin was fair, but her labia majora were a dark brown, covered in pubic hair. I eagerly bent down, my nostrils immediately filling with the unique, slightly fishy smell of her vulva. I began to lick Eva's vulva . Her clitoris was large; I sucked on it and rubbed it with the tip of my tongue, and in less than a minute she came. She begged me for her in a hoarse voice, and I quickly stripped off my clothes, shoving my engorged, purplish-red penis into her vagina. My first impression was that her vagina wasn't any looser than Kelly's, and because her buttocks and thighs were fuller than Kelly's, it gave me an indescribable feeling of fullness and satisfaction, which was incredibly stimulating. That day, I had sex with Eva three times in a row over an hour. She joked afterwards that being gang-raped wasn't as bad as this. I was also secretly surprised by my own strong libido. With my active encouragement, our four-person partner-swapping game happened at least once a week, and this continued for more than two months. One day, Kelly said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, that she couldn't tell if my current girlfriend was her or Eva , and I realized that what I had done was really unfair to Kelly. Seeing my embarrassed expression, Kelly first playfully said that now she was more convinced that we would break up, but not because she wasn't young enough, but because she wasn't old enough. Then she

She earnestly asked if I wanted to hear her analysis of me. Feeling both guilty and curious, I

nodded .

Kelly said that my lack of interest in Penny, who was my age, but my infatuation with Eva, who was over twenty years older than me,

could be seen in psychology as an Oedipus complex. According to Freud, all men have this, and it's nothing

to be surprised about. However, I should know that men's infatuation with women of their mother's generation is not mainstream in contemporary society. She said

she knew I was highly intelligent, and highly intelligent people often crave success and mainstream acceptance. But non-

mainstream sexual behavior is often an obstacle to entering mainstream society. Kelly's analysis was insightful, and I nodded in agreement. She

went on to say that her words weren't out of jealousy for my infatuation with Eva, but rather to help me understand the pros and

cons .

"Sometimes, when you're too deeply involved, you can't see what's around you," she said with a smile.

I was grateful to Kelly and resolved to forget about Eva. From then on, we stopped going to swapping parties.

At the beginning of my first summer vacation, I received a letter from my mother saying that my father

had suddenly suffered a heart attack without any prior warning, and after two days of intensive care, he had passed away. I was heartbroken and couldn't eat or sleep, but thankfully Kelly

helped me through the first few weeks. After calming down, I decided to bring my mother to stay in the United States for a while. Having me

around, and not seeing her old things, might help alleviate her grief over this sudden misfortune. Kelly also thought it was a good

idea. The passport and visa were processed smoothly. In mid-August, I picked my mother up from the international airport and took her to

the one-bedroom graduate student apartment I had just applied for.

My mother looked much thinner, and her eyes seemed very tired, but the joy she showed when she saw me made me

feel that I had done something for her for the first time in my life. I originally planned for my mother to stay in the bedroom, and I to stay in the living room. She disagreed,

saying that I was old enough to have my own bedroom, and that staying in the living room was enough for her. School started soon, but luckily, attending classes

was commonplace for me, so I could spend some time chatting with my mom every day. I had never talked to

her . Gradually, we became close confidants, and my mom's mood improved noticeably.

She regained her former humor, laughed more often, and her complexion was much rosier than when she first arrived.

My own mood also changed. No matter what unpleasant things happened at school,

just thinking of my mom would immediately lift my spirits inexplicably. When I got home, it seemed like I had

endless things to talk about with my mom.

Seeing her happy laughter filled me with an unprecedentedly sweet feeling.

During this time, I saw Kelly less. With my mom around, I felt embarrassed to be too close to her, but I didn't want to

go to Kelly's place and leave my mom alone at home. Fortunately, Kelly didn't seem unhappy. She

said she'd been very busy with her studies lately, and for some reason, her

libido .

"I guess I don't want to get too deeply involved with myself. Besides, cucumbers and

sausages ," she said with a laugh.

My birthday is in October. That morning, Mom said she'd cook some nice dishes for dinner to celebrate. I

came home early in the afternoon and found Mom in the kitchen, softly singing as she washed vegetables, not hearing me come in.

Looking at her back, I naturally thought of what I'd heard from her over the past month. Mom

comes from a minority group in Southwest China known for their singing and dancing (I already knew this). She was selected to study at a national college at seventeen,

married my father at eighteen, and gave birth to me before she was nineteen. According to her, if she weren't from a minority group, she would most likely have been expelled for getting pregnant

in school . After graduating from university, she continued her studies at a local art school and

stayed on to teach dance. She's not even thirty-eight yet, but some of her students are already famous

dancers

… Just then, Mom turned around and saw me. “Xiao Lei, you startled me! Look at you, standing at the door,

what are you daydreaming about?” She gave me a sweet smile and continued washing the vegetables.

Since I can remember, I've seen Mom smile countless times, but today is the first time I've realized how beautiful she is!

Perhaps I've never looked at Mom with a man's eyes. Mom is more

alluring , including middle-aged women. Look at Eva, she doesn't have Mom's humor, her eyes and eyebrows aren't as pretty,

her skin isn't as smooth, her waist isn't as slender, and her vulva is definitely not as… I was suddenly jolted

back to reality by my own thoughts.

And reality left me even more bewildered: my penis was as hard as an iron rod.

I was relieved that my mother was facing away from me. I quickly went into the bedroom, my heart pounding and

my face burning. I started silently repeating to myself, "I haven't seen Kelly for weeks, I should go and be intimate with her."

I forced myself to think of Kelly, her wantonness in bed, her pink vulva with its golden curls,

but suddenly the image of Kelly opening and closing her vulva transformed into my mother. To be honest, I was terrified;

I thought I must be going crazy.

I rushed into the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and found I could still think. I decided to first soften my

throbbing penis. As I masturbated, I thought of Kelly and Eva, but my mother's image kept

drifting over and replacing them. Finally, I gave up completely and

ejaculated in my mind, licking the vulva that seemed to grow between my mother's legs. Needless to say, dinner that day was anything but festive. Guilt, confusion, and surging

desire made me afraid to look at my mother and unable to speak. Seeing my listless state and flushed face, my mother thought

I was sick and kept asking me what was wrong. I vaguely replied that I had a headache, hurriedly ate a few bites, and went back to

my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

That night, I had recurring dreams; you can probably guess what they were about. For the next few days, I

used the excuse of busy with schoolwork to leave early and return late at night, immediately locking myself in my bedroom. My mother asked several times,

but I rudely interrupted her each time.

One morning, just as I was about to leave, my mother stopped me and said, "Xiaolei, I can tell something's bothering you.

Tell me, and maybe I can give you some advice. Perhaps I've been here too long, and you feel uncomfortable or

inconvenienced.

Tell me then. I'm your mother; I'm only at ease as long as you're okay. There are still a lot of things

waiting for me to do back home…"

"Mom, don't overthink it. I'm really busy with my studies." I interrupted her and ran out of the house.

But my mother's words made me realize that this couldn't go on. Not only was I constantly confused,

but my mother was also having a very difficult time. I didn't want her to suffer any more. I decided to listen to Kelly's

advice.

It was incredibly difficult to tell someone about this, but I stammered out the whole story

to Kelly because I had no other choice. Kelly listened quietly, thought for a moment, and tentatively asked

, "Maybe we can call Eva and the others. Do you think that would work?" I shook my head.

She looked into my eyes and slowly said, "I might be able to help you, but it depends on how you answer

my next question. Therefore, I hope you will answer truthfully." I nodded.

"Do you only want to have sex with your mother, or have you fallen in love with her?" she asked. I

've countless times. "Both," I said.

Kelly looked at me intently, then sat quietly for several minutes before letting out a soft

sigh : "Oh, poor little one, you really have fallen in love with your mother." She took a breath and said, "

In that case, let me offer my thoughts as a friend and psychologist. If you truly love your mother,

I think you should find a way to tell her your feelings. Once you've talked things out,

the burden will be much lighter. As for the outcome, there are only two possibilities. If she doesn't agree, you'll know

it's a dead end, give up, and the knot will be untied. She loves you and will eventually understand. If needed, I

can help you explain. If she agrees, your knot will be gone. As long as you're careful and don't let others

know, you can love each other to your heart's content."

She paused, then asked, "Have you considered the psychological consequences of incest? Even if you get what you want,

the guilt might stay with you for life.

" “I already feel guilty. But the more I think about it, the less I understand what I did wrong. My

mother and I are both adults. If we don’t hurt others, why can’t we love each other? Society used to not accept homosexuality, but isn’t it starting to accept it now?” I blurted out

what I had been thinking about for a week, as if I were arguing . “It’s good that you’ve figured it out,” Kelly said. “But you should know that current American law does n’t allow incest. I’m giving you this advice because I trust your character. Also, as a friend, I ’d like to add something. If you truly love your mother, you naturally don’t want to hurt her feelings. I think you should give her some subtle signals first, letting her sense your feelings. If she has absolutely no sexual interest in you, she’ll definitely tell you in a roundabout way. You should then back off. But at least when you confront her, she’ll be somewhat prepared and won’t be suddenly hurt. Besides, giving subtle signals first can increase your chances , because women like men to make advances. Maybe she’ll even start a relationship with you.” I was incredibly impressed with Kelly, and my mood improved considerably. I couldn’t help but kiss her. She laughed and dodged away, saying, "Women don't like men who aren't faithful. Besides, after trying all sorts of sausages, I've finally chosen my next boyfriend—his size and hardness are just as good as yours!" Her smile faded as she continued, "Lei, I think our sexual relationship ends today. But I hope we'll always be close friends. If you have any worries, feel free to come to me." She hesitated for a few seconds, then added, "I wholeheartedly hope you and your mother can get what you want… However, if you'd like, we can be intimate one more time." I hesitated. Kelly had always been good to me; I shouldn't refuse her. Besides, I hadn't been and needed to release some tension. But I thought of my mother, and the sweetness of being with her. I smiled apologetically at Kelly and shook my head. The thought that we would never be as close as before filled me with a sense of loss. It was very late when I got home; my mother was still waiting for me. Seeing me return, she let out a long sigh of relief. I still felt embarrassed to look her in the eye, but the guilt and helplessness I felt before were gone. " How can I tell my mother my feelings without hurting her?" I asked myself. What is Love (Part Two) : The Pain of Heartbreak Author: Vincent-xf Love is truly wondrous! To be fair, when I was with Kelly, I was very satisfied both emotionally and sexually . But that was completely different from my feelings for my mother. At nineteen, I had never admired a woman so much: every smile, every gesture of my mother possessed a captivating . Of course, my mother was naturally beautiful, and years of dance training gave her a graceful figure and demeanor. But Kelly and Eva were also good-looking, not to mention Penny. The difference was that my appreciation of their appearance was based on an objective standard, and my admiration for them was often driven by reason. For example, when I kissed Penny 's nipples and praised her curves, I felt it was something I should say, even though it was the truth . But my admiration for my mother was absolute, and it wasn't just about her looks and body, but about her as a person, everything about her. When I praised her beauty, grace, and figure, my words came from the heart; they flowed naturally from my lips without conscious thought. The first few times she heard my compliments, she was very embarrassed. I told her that it was perfectly natural in America, that a woman's beauty was a gift from God to men, and that expressing those beautiful feelings only made the world a better place. Once, my mother wore a dress I had never seen before, which perfectly accentuated her curves. Hearing my praise, she suddenly smiled and said that according to Chinese custom, she should be modest at that moment . But even back in China, she had never heard anyone claim to be ugly. "What should I say now?" she asked with a smile. "Just say thank you," I replied. My mother's smile faded, and she looked at me sternly, said thank you, and then burst into laughter. I was amused by her too. After laughing for a while, my mother, panting, said that since she came to the city for university, she had never...

I've never been so modest, but the feeling of being modest is wonderful. "Thank you, Xiaolei." Seeing her happy

face, I felt a little drunk.

I also discovered that I'm willing to do anything for my mother. To be honest, I hate housework. When I'm

living alone , I always try my best to minimize it. But now, I not only willingly

help her with housework, but I also wish I could do everything for her. (This subconscious act of "flattering" my mother

later led to something worth mentioning, which I'll talk about below.) When I first started helping my mother with

housework, she disagreed, saying that my task was to study and I didn't need to worry about anything else. I replied that firstly, even if she didn't

come to America, I would still have to do it myself; secondly, studying is the easiest thing in the world for me, and doing something else would be

good for clearing my head; thirdly, I wanted her to come to America to enjoy a few days of comfort, not to be my maid; and

fourthly, it's only natural for a man to serve a beautiful woman like her. She couldn't argue with me and agreed with a smile.

The most surprising change was my attitude towards sex. When I was dating Kelly, even though we were together every day,

I was still interested in other women. Since falling in love with my mother, other women suddenly lost their appeal to me,

as if my mother was the only woman in the world, and everyone else was androgynous. Not only that, but even my

interest in my mother wasn't always linked to sexual desire as it initially was. Most of the time, when I thought of my mother

, I was filled with that sweet, tingling feeling.

Once, I even thought that this feeling, which I had never experienced before, was more intense than the pleasure of ejaculation.

However, my lust was still there; with love, desire seemed secondary, but it still needed to be released from time to time. Every

week or two, I would go to bed early at night, turn off the lights, close my eyes, and masturbate my throbbing, veiny penis

while . Every time this happened, I would think with frustration that I couldn't imagine

what my mother's vulva looked like, because I had never seen a naked Asian woman.

Winter break arrived in the blink of an eye. With no classes for a month, I spent a lot of time talking to my mom

and shopping. One day, we happened to pass a video rental store, so I asked my mom if she wanted to borrow a few Chinese

movies.

She agreed. We walked around the store and picked out two Taiwanese films. Passing by the adult section,

I remembered watching adult movies with Kelly before, and a thought popped into my head. I smiled and asked my mom if she wanted to watch something with explicit content.

She hesitated a bit, but still nodded shyly.

Back home, I prepared dinner while my mom watched the Mandarin film. By the time I had time to put the adult film

into the VCR, it was already 7 PM. Seeing that I wanted to watch too, Mom hesitated and said, "Xiaolei,

if you want to watch now, I'll wait until tomorrow."

Knowing Mom was embarrassed to watch with me, I said, "Then you watch, I'll go to my bedroom to read."

I went into my bedroom, made a face at Mom before closing the door, and grinned, saying, "Ask me if you don't understand anything,

I'm an expert compared to you."

"You're not learning anything good!" Mom said, sitting down on the sofa in front of the TV.

An hour later, I went into the living room. On TV, a man was kneeling

between , performing oral sex on her from bottom to top. Mom's eyes widened, one hand covering her half-open mouth, clearly finding

the scene unbelievable. I brought her a glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, then sat down next to her. This time,

Mom didn't chase me away, probably because she didn't care.

A dozen minutes later, the movie ended, and Mom let out a long sigh. I asked with a grin,

"How was it? Did you learn anything?"

Mom glanced at me quickly, paused for a moment, and stammered, "Was that...

real... that guy... giving... that girl... um..."

I suddenly felt a mischievous urge, so I asked knowingly, "What do you mean, real or fake

?"

"Well... that guy... with his mouth..."

Perhaps the scene in the video had aroused my lust, and explicit words slipped out, "Oh, you

mean that guy licked the girl's vulva?" Mom's body stiffened for a few seconds, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

Even under the light, I could see her face was flushed red with embarrassment.

I decided to go all in, controlling my pounding heart, and continued, pretending to be serious

: "Of course it's true. Licking the vulva is a major way for men to help women reach orgasm. A survey

showed 99% of women who have had their vulvas licked really enjoy it." (As an

aside, this statistic isn't fabricated.)

My mother, her eyes fixed on the turned-off television, asked softly, "Then...aren't men disgusted by it?"

"Mom, the vulva is much cleaner than the mouth. The mouth is always exposed, eating everything, and most

people don't brush their teeth right after eating." This time, I was arguing seriously.

For several minutes, the room was silent except for the sound of breathing. My mother sat motionless,

and I didn't know how to end this awkward situation. Finally, Mom stood up and said, "I'll go take out the trash."

While Mom was out, I slipped into my bedroom.

The next morning, Mom made breakfast as usual and went downstairs for morning exercises. Because of what happened

the night felt a little guilty and decided to do some housework before going to the office, both to comfort myself and to

"curry favor"

with Mom. Naturally, I thought of doing laundry. There was a pile of dirty clothes in the bathroom. I bent down to pick them up and found Mom's underwear

at the bottom . My heart skipped a beat. I picked up the underwear and noticed a

small wet patch around her vulva, with glistening liquid visible between the fibers. I brought it to my nose and immediately smelled

a strong, pungent odor. Based on my experience with Kelly, I knew this was most likely

the vaginal fluid Mom had released after masturbating.

It's very likely that last night's video aroused Mom's sexual desire. This morning, after masturbating, she hurriedly took off her clothes, intending to

take them to the rooftop laundry room to wash after I left. I imagined Mom putting her hand inside her underwear and rubbing her vulva, and

masturbated while smelling her vulva. I decided it was better not to wash those clothes to avoid embarrassing Mom.

When she came back downstairs, I was eating breakfast. She came out of the bathroom, hesitated for a moment, and blushed.

"Xiao Lei, did you use the bathroom just now?" she asked. Seeing her expression, I suddenly realized my

stupidity . I'd forgotten to put her underwear back under my dirty clothes! I felt parched and my face burned.

But the truth was obvious, and denying it was pointless, so I just stared at the floor and nodded slightly. Mom

stood there stiffly for a moment, then locked herself in the bathroom.

For the next few days, Mom avoided me and ate very little. My mood was terrible;

one moment I was cursing myself for hurting Mom, the next I was blaming myself for my carelessness. Of course, I also

thought about Mom's vulva from time to time, sometimes even thinking like an outsider, "You love your mom, but in the end, you just want to

have sex with her.

Compared to your ultimate goal, what does smelling her underwear matter? Why are you pretending to be innocent

and blaming yourself for hurting her feelings?" In short, my mind was in complete chaos; I couldn't concentrate on anything. I was afraid of

making mistakes in my experiments, so I took sick leave.

A few days later, one morning, I was absentmindedly reading on the sofa when my mother came into the living room and said

she wanted to talk to me. "Xiaolei, I haven't seen Kelly in a long time. Did you two have a fight?"

"No, we broke up, but we're still friends," I replied.

"Why? Is it because I'm here that you feel uncomfortable?" my mother asked.

Clearly, my mother thought my interest in her underwear was because I didn't have a girlfriend. I felt a little

wronged, but suddenly my mind became very clear. Kelly had said that I would tell my mother my secret sooner or later.

Since things had come to this point, now might be an opportunity to talk to her. I made up my mind, staring at

the floor , and slowly said,

"It's not because it's inconvenient, but because there's a beautiful and lovely woman in my heart. I think about her

all the time ."

My answer probably surprised my mother. She paused for a few seconds, then said softly, "Xiaolei,

whoever you like, I'm happy for you. Don't worry, I won't be like some mothers who

are overly critical of their sons' girlfriends."

Seeing that my mother had misunderstood again, and knowing that this roundabout way of speaking would never clear things up, I gritted

my teeth, looked up at my mother, and said, "Mom, this woman doesn't know I love her. She's Chinese, and

nineteen years older than me."

"Nineteen years older than you?" My mother's eyes widened in surprise. "Then she's the same age as me, old

enough to be your girlfriend..." Her voice suddenly stopped; she knew who I was talking about.

For several minutes, I stared blankly at my mother, and she stared back at me blankly. Then she lowered

her gaze and asked softly, "Xiao Lei, I understood what you said, right?"

"Yes," I nodded. Although I still didn't know my mother's attitude, I had finally said what I needed to say, and

the burden I had carried for three or four months was finally lifted. My mother's face was expressionless, her eyes staring straight

ahead, and she sat down on the sofa as if sleepwalking.

After some time, my mother said, "I'm tired. I want to rest in your bedroom for a while. Please don't

disturb me, okay?" Before I could answer, she went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. My

mother didn't leave her bedroom for two days. I was worried that she was sick, but I didn't dare disturb her, so I checked on her when I brought

her food . Each time I went in, I saw her lying motionless on the bed, with every grain of food from the previous meal still

there.

On the morning of the third day, as I put down my breakfast and was about to leave, my mother said, "Xiaolei, I know you sent me to

America because you felt sorry for me. In the past six months, we've become very close, we talk about almost everything." My mother chuckled softly, almost self-deprecatingly

, and continued, "Xiaolei, I want to ask you a few things, and I hope you'll answer me truthfully."

I hummed in agreement.

"Xiaolei, when did you start…

?" "From my birthday. You were washing vegetables, and you looked so beautiful…"

"Didn't you ever think about me being your mother?" my mother interrupted.

"I did. To be honest, at first, this tormented me quite a bit, but I came to terms with it later

,"

I decided not to mention Kelly. I would take responsibility for my actions; dragging others into it was pointless. “You’re my mother,

but you’re also a woman. You need a man’s love too. I’m a man, why can’t I love you? As long as you love

me too, this is between the two of us adults, and it has nothing to do with anyone else or society.”

“Xiaolei, I love you, but this is a mother’s love for her child. Besides, have you ever thought about how you have these thoughts after your father just passed away

last year

? Do you even care about your father?” “Of course I do. But can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead,” the mother said expressionlessly.

"Mom, you're only thirty-seven and already a widow. If Dad knew from heaven, would he be at peace? You're so

beautiful , there must be many men who want to marry you, but between me and those men, who do you think Dad trusts more?

" Mom was silent for a few minutes, then said, "I don't know where you learned these twisted ideas. No wonder

people say American society's moral values are a mess. But even putting aside morality, you should at least find

a girl around your age."

"Mom, I love the person, not the age! Why can so many men love

women twenty years younger than them, but not the other way around?"

Mom frowned, closed her eyes, and said, "Xiaolei, I can't argue with you anymore, and I'm tired. You can go out now

."

At noon, seeing Mom walk out of the bedroom, my heart pounded. Mom pulled me to sit on the sofa,

looked into my eyes, and said, word by word, "Xiaolei, I think I should go back." My heart sank.

Mom continued, "Xiaolei, I'm your mother. No matter what you've said, I won't blame you. Besides, you were less than fifteen when you

left home to go to university alone

. It's understandable that you couldn't distinguish between loving your mother and loving a woman. But you're grown up now, and you should understand that you shouldn't get everything you want. I

've been in America for quite a while, and I have a lot to do when I get back. If it's convenient,

could you book me a plane ticket for two weeks from now?"

My mind went blank, my heart felt empty and painful, and I wanted to cry but couldn't. Fortunately, I could still think...

To love your mother is to respect her wishes. I can't even describe how I spent the last ten days or so before she returned to China

. She made all sorts of things I liked and kept joking around, trying to cheer me up.

To avoid disappointing her, I forced a smile from time to time. But only one thought filled my mind: I'll never

have the person I love.

At the airport gate, her eyes were red. It was time to part ways. She hugged me and

whispered , "Xiao Lei, come back to China after you graduate. Mom will definitely find you a good girl." A month after my mother returned, I received a letter from her. Besides telling me to take care of myself,

the

whole letter was about

what she had done since returning. It was clear she didn't want to talk about her time in America. At the end of the letter, she mentioned that they were preparing to

install a telephone at home. "In another month or two, we can talk directly!" my mother wrote.

One evening in mid-April, I was lying in bed reading when the phone rang. I picked it up

and heard my mother's voice: "Xiaolei, guess who it is?"

My mother sounded very excited, bombarding me with questions about the call quality, how I was doing, and

how my studies were going.

I told her to hang up and that I should call back. She said no need; she hadn't spent the money she brought back from America and could afford

a few long-distance calls. My mother added that in a few weeks it would be the anniversary of my father's death, and she was going to

the cemetery . She asked if I had anything to say to my father, and she would pass it on to him. I thought for a moment and then asked her to tell my father that I

would take good care of and protect my mother for the rest of my life, so he could rest assured. My mother was silent for a while, and when she spoke again,

it sounded like she had just been crying. I said it had been a while, and we should hang up. My mother seemed a little reluctant. I

promised I'd call her once a month from now on, and then jokingly said that if she talked for too long this time

and used up all her savings in one go, I'd have to pay all her future phone bills, which would be so unfair. Mom

laughed agreed.

In mid-July, I sensed from the phone call that Mom wasn't in a good mood, and seemed preoccupied. I asked her

if something was wrong, and she said it was nothing, not to worry me, then changed the subject, asking if I

had a new girlfriend. Since Mom returned to China, she had avoided this topic in her letters and on the phone. I

usually my best not to think about it, because it made me feel bad. This time, when Mom asked, I couldn't hold back anymore

: "Mom, I have someone in my heart, and I don't want to date anyone new."

There was a moment of silence on the phone, then Mom's voice came through, "Xiaolei, I'm sorry, I shouldn't

have brought this up."

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